Burning hearts
by Jashida
Summary: Chapter 2 screwup. I apologise for the mistake.The final stages of the war have begun, and the Empire stands once agin on the verge of victory... and the only people who can stop them, happen to be those who don't want too...
1. Chapter 1

A/N- To all original of my first Burning Hearts I herby do solemnly apologise. Due to factors beyond my control I could not continue the story until now, and after reading my original work I have decided upon a re-written version. The plot remains basically the same, and all characters promised will appear in this version at one point or another. Original characters have been changed though as they will suit the story better than before.

Now I shall explain several things. This story takes place in an alternate future, in the Love Hina universe. The reason for this shall be given. This storyline was created by me and me alone, and if it resembles anyone else's in any form or fashion I had no intention of doing so. The story is a mixture of both the anime and the manga, simply because I have seen only the first 24 episodes of the anime and have all fourteen volumes of the manga. And one more thing… To whoever hired that assassin…? Get your money back; he was a really lousy shot… (Wipes blood off hands)

Disclaimer- If I will ever own Love Hina may I be struck with massive wads of Ken Akamatsu's cash…. Waiting…waiting…waiting….

**Burning Hearts**

"I've experienced a lot of firsts in my life. But the most exhilarating one has to be the first time I died."

**Silence**- sheer and complete silence.

Keitaro Urashima had never experienced a silence as pure as this. It seemed to echo like the everlasting screams of death that resounded through his heart. The silence gave him time to think. Time to see- to observe like the war never had. Was this his respite after four years? Had he finally escaped the horrors that ripped at his soul? More than likely not. He was, after all, one of the most well known figures in the war, and Urashima Keitaro- the Dark Assassin- was not easily forgotten. He wished he was though, that would make life so much simpler; but then again since when had he ever had a _simple_ life. For most of his existence he'd allowed himself to be ruled by a promise, failing to get into the university of his dreams and getting kicked out of his own home in the process; soon after he'd become manager of his grandmother's 'inn'; then he'd met Seta… and then… and then…

It wasn't worth thinking about, what was done was done, and what was past was past; that much he knew. But it still did not stop his mind from wondering to that day, and the weeks, and months that followed. In six eternal years the world had changed. No longer were there battles among superpowers and the many who fought against them. Now there were only two warring factors; the empire and the fools who opposed them. Keitaro supported neither. He simply wanted the suffering to end. This was his reason for disappearing those two years ago. Right now the world remained in ignorance to his existence, and he would just as soon keep it that way.

Keitaro let out the breath, that he hadn't even realised he was holding, and continued his slow and sullen walk onwards. _What had brought him here?_ That was a question whose answer remained unknown… but it didn't truly matter did it? He was here, and that was decidedly acceptable. Ash and burnt soil crunched softly underneath the weight of his worn, black boots. An icy chill blew and he hugged the dark cloak tighter against his body. He could sense it; smell it in the air; the pain and agony of those who had once called this place their home. The village of Hinata. He let out another weary sigh as he stared at the now dank and desolate place. Time had done its worst- and _still_ it was incomparable to his wrath. He'd been the one to instigate the war, and it had all started with this village… or rather the Hinatasou in this village. Either way, the place was dead- and he was responsible…

"Keitaro-sama?"

Keiataro suddenly became aware of the presence of the 'doll' beside him. He had all but forgotten her in his reminisce.

"Yes Moe-chan?" he asked.

His voice had changed in the past years. It had grown harder, colder; another testament to the experiences the war had given him.

"Are you all right?" the blond haired doll asked her voice filled with concern.

"Yeah," he lied, "I'm all right."

The truth was that he was in pain. The old memories haunted him, tortured him in a way that no physical pain could. He had lived a life full of regrets and now the ramifications were upon him. He accepted them as they came, but never once did that mean that he had to like them.

Time seemed to pass, incessantly slow as he made his way around his old home. Maybe it was that he actually missed the way it used to be; though he doubted it highly. More than likely it was the memories that came to him. They came like waves upon the shore; never stopping, never ceasing; coming in when the tide was high, and retreating when it was low. Strange how long high tide seemed to last…

A/N – Short but necessary, the next chapter will be longer and I promise will have a bit more of… everything for that matter.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N- My apologies the original chapter 2 which I sent was a draft which I later decided against. It usually save all my drafts and accidentally posted it by mistake. Again I apologise.**

**Burning hearts.**

"_There are many people who talk the game of righteousness, who live their lives for good, or for their God… But if the devil came knocking… If true temptation in its purest form came to them…If any of them were given the deal that I was offered… If they were given the choice of all their wants, for the price of their mortal souls… Would they choose like I did?"_

**-Jaida Sol**

"For honour! For freedom! For the rebellion!"

The voices of Haruka Urashima's troops sounded off in the distance; the shouts of fifty men and women, combined to form that single entity that they all lived for. Haruka slowly took a breath and wondered if the words sounded as hollow to them as they did to her. The rebellion was losing, and it was as if no one else was aware of it but her. No matter how many losses they undertook, or how many of their own were slaughtered within their fight, they still continued onwards. Forever chanting that motto…

"Why?" she muttered.

Did they not realise that over half of their original number had turned against them? Did they not realise that their own weapons and technology were vastly inferior to what the Empire possessed? Did they not realise that they were outnumbered with over ten to one? Or were they simply blinded by their own desires for freedom that their own lives came in second? She always pondered these questions before battle… And always she answered them with a question of her own. _What would she have them do?_ The answer was thankfully simple and direct.

She would have them fight…

It always took a lot out of her both physically and mentally to address her soldiers, and this time was no different. As she stood in front of them it felt as if the weight of the world was being placed on her shoulders. Their hopes, their dreams, their very lives counted upon her leadership and should she fail or falter everything and everyone who relied upon her would be lost.

"For years now we have watched as the Empire has taken over our world," her voice was cool, calm, and confident as it echoed throughout the abandoned remains of what used to be a train station.

"We have watched as one by one our number; the number of those who fight for freedom; has fallen. We have sat around d and watched as our own brethren have been slaughtered and captured in the name of the false Emperor. TODAY WE WATCH NO LONGER!!!"

The ecstatic cries of the soldiers punctuated her statement and she stared in strange satisfaction as she waited for silence.

"Today at six hundred hours a train, will arrive at a drop off point less than half a mile from here. In it will be the prisoners of war. Our friends, our comrades, our family. Today they will be set free! We will set them free! We will add them to our number once again; and destroy all who stand in our way!"

The final yells of agreement shook the worn foundations of the station as she finished, and slowly, silently she walked away. She could hear her second giving out the plans and assignments, but only subconsciously.

'_Our friends, our comrades, our family."_

The words echoed throughout the cavern of her mind. It was false… It was all false… She didn't have friends, she didn't have comrades, and she didn't have family. All she had were soldiers. Men and women, who would fight for her, no, fight for the ideals of the rebellion. Everything she said pertaining to loved ones was a lie. **She** was living a lie. Haruka Urashima had no one… and for the first time in years she realised how honestly and truly alone she was…

She looked around, watching, hoping and waiting…

And there, where no one was present… in the privacy of the darkness Haruka Urashima cried…

The wind picked up, carrying the dry desert sand with it. Haruka shielded her face against it, listening closely as the train approached. She could hear it in the distance, as its wheels moved rhythmically along the tracks. It was a steam-engine. This meant it would be all the easier…

Everyone was in positions with all squad leaders standing by. They knew what to do. Once the train slowed the teams would be on. Two would provide distraction, one would free the prisoners. All would get off at he same time. They'd planned this out to a T and now they all waited for their target to come into sight.

Haruka cradled the 10mm at her side; it was strange how much comfort she gained from an inanimate object. But somehow it seemed to be the only thing that remained constant in her life. Death and the instrument that wielded it.

"It's coming!" the short range radio crackled to life.

"You know what to do," she answered.

The wind picked up again, and once again she turned her head to the side. There before her, only a meter away knelt a boy. He seemed young, only about fifteen, but with a posture that far over shot his age. His jet black hair was cut short, as far as she could tell, and his skin was deathly pale. But it was his pure violet eyes that caught her attention the most. They burned… Not with the emotions of compassion, but with hatred. Haruka had never seen hatred like that since…him… She blinked – and looked again.

He was gone...

Had she been hallucinating? Was this a delirious vision due to all the stress?

"Haruka-san?" the radio sprang to life once again.

Quickly she shook the thoughts from her mind. The train had finally stopped.

"Let's move."


End file.
